


slowed down (heart)

by whisperlings



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Play, Cuddling, Diapers, Infantilism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 04:05:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperlings/pseuds/whisperlings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He loves Derek. He really, really does. Shows it all when he's like this, nuzzling up to him and tugging on his shirt sleeve, showing him his latest colors, as he calls his finished coloring pages when like this. Sometimes he goes a little outside of the lines, but that's okay. That's him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	slowed down (heart)

It has been seven months and seven little deaths in nearly every sense of the word. Stiles has sheltered Derek so long, carrying him through during Scott's disappearance for three months - three little deaths - and Isaac's trek to get their Scott back, or near enough. Another few months. Another few little deaths. He's a human and he can only weather it all for so long until his own little death overtakes and consumes and he  _needs_. Needs Derek to step back, look at his eyes and the bags underneath as he succumbs to the tears that have been threatening ever since Scott hadn't texted, hadn't called, in more than two days. That just didn't happen with  _them._ Not them.

Their homes have nearly merged into one house, but tonight Stiles doesn't want to leave Derek, and Cora's out for another month, roadtripping with Lydia and Allison,  _"just because we need to get away, just us girls."_ Stiles could have laughed so hollow for all the half-truth in her words, in their eyes, their faces. Seeing the world outside of Beacon Hills wasn't their only reason for wanting to leave for a while... if they didn't decide to just, just never come back. Well, if Allison could stay too far away from her father for long, because their hearts  _had_ shifted. Some kind of darkness, something trailing them...

"Derek," he half-heartedly whispers, his head resting on the beta's shoulder in his new apartment. It's brighter, much more welcoming this time, because something had changed in Derek after he and Cora had come home, some new sort of hope that Stiles had done his best to shelter and keep safe during another round with the supernatural. And he thinks he's done pretty damn good, really, because Derek makes a small contented noise in the back of his throat and asks him what he wants.

And  _God,_ his fucking voice... it's something he needs so badly, just as he wants this man who speaks with it. He nuzzles closer to him on the sofa, legs resting on top of Derek's thighs. He points to the cardboard box that had come earlier - they both, by now, know what's inside.

"A little boy tonight, then?"

Stiles nods, wiping at his eyes, pushing the tears back.

* * *

For a long time, he is happy. On the first month, the first little death had found him after Derek had taken his second virginity. They had been lying together, Scott had been missing for a couple of weeks, and regression came naturally with lidded eyes and needy fingers and -

_"Cuddles, Stiles? Really?"_

_He had whined and moved closer, and then - the thumb-sucking._

_Derek had seen it before, months and months prior when the Sheriff's life had been in some sort of limbo._

_"This is... you?"_

_Stiles nodded, "...Me."_

He is happy because now they are so much farther than that, so much, and it's beautiful. It's simply gorgeous, the trust and the care and the way both of their phones are so far away now. (Not  _really_ that far, just in the other room, just in case anyone needs them, but... well, he allows for a bit of exaggeration at this point.) His legal adulthood, now that he is eighteen and that Magic Legal Number, falls off layer after layer, down and down until he just kneels at the chest that Derek's pulled out from under his bed, unlocked by Derek's fingers at the key, and opens it up.

"Can I...?" he looks back at Derek, the edge of his right thumb resting between his lips.

Derek kneels down with him and rummages through the stash of childhood and babyish toys and items. He compartmentalizes a few items, marking them as "no-nos" for the night. Stiles whines a bit but Derek shushes him with a finger to the lips. 

"You can watch a cartoon on Netflix for an hour, color some, play with your blocks... then it'll be nap time. Would you rather have a bottle or one of your pacifiers?"

Stiles loves the guidelines, the rules of some quality, that Derek puts down for him. It helps him pull back farther, reach inside and truly feel  _little._ Limited choices, but they're all still fun. Tonight, though, he wants his bottle. So he points to it and Derek gets it out of the plastic bag, filling it with warm milk just like Stiles prefers. At first it'd been odd, the switch from cold to warm milk, but he'd gotten to the point where he loved it. There was something more comforting to it now, another aid in regressing. It just brought him  _back_ to a far more simpler time and separated adulthood (cold milk) from childish wants (warm milk). Cold milk was still comforting, but in a different way. It was for PG-13 and R-rated movie nights, although sometimes those nights involved beer instead of cold milk. Sometimes.

Before Derek lets him have the bottle, though, he goes out of the room and then returns with the cardboard box from earlier, now opened with his claws.

"You know what you get with the bottle?" he asks.

Stiles grins bashfully and nods his head.

"Get up on the bed and lie down on your back, all right? Not telling you twice."

He loves and adores this side of Derek. He never thought he'd see it, and for the longest time doubted the guy even  _had_ a softer side at all. But now, now - after everything the past couple or so years - he'd been granted access to it. Prime seats, the works. He knew he was good with people, always had been, but Derek? Now he'd been a curveball, but he'd still caught him.

Derek pulls his shoes and socks off while he lies on the bed, and then come his jeans and underwear. A bit of preparation and skillful handwork, and he's in his diaper in less than around five minutes. It's then when he feels like he's  _there._ But, of course, being there doesn't mean he forgets every single thing.

He remembers Scott and sniffles.

And Derek pulls him to his chest, telling him, "Your heartbeat, your heartbeat, slow it down. For me? Everything's all right."

"But..." he feels himself starting to cry, "But Scott, daddy! He - "

"He's okay, he's with Isaac. He's okay, Stiles. You're okay."

"He was so hurt, though," he says with a frown.

"He's healed now, Stiles. Don't worry." Derek's gently stroking his head now, and it... it helps. A lot. His heartbeat isn't hammering any more. Stiles relaxes into Derek for a few moments until Derek moves away and says to go to the TV and sit down, they'll find something fun to watch. He also hands over one of Stiles' soft baby blankets, a lovely green color, something he'd put off limit a few minutes before.

He needs it.

* * *

Before the fourth episode of the cartoon is over, he's asleep with his head on Derek's lap, curled up with one of his stuffed teddys and the milk bottle long finished. The first episode had held his entire attention, but afterward he'd switched back and forth between coloring and stacking his blocks, too. Even in this mindset he couldn't stay held by one thing for long. Only one person.

Derek said he needed to nap, too.

_"That's what good little boys do, you know?"_

He loves Derek. He really, really does. Shows it all when he's like this, nuzzling up to him and tugging on his shirt sleeve, showing him his latest colors, as he calls his finished coloring pages when like this. Sometimes he goes a little outside of the lines, but that's okay. That's him.

Every single bit of him needs a good nap.

And so he takes this beautiful opportunity, finally and completely at ease.

* * *

He doesn't remember having any dreams when he wakes up, probably didn't have the time to experience one because when he looks at the clock, he's only been out for about forty-five or so minutes (leaning towards an hour, to be more honest). All he's aware of is the sort of full feeling in his bladder, and he contemplates getting up and using the toilet before resting again and watching more of his cartoons, but then hears the slight crinkling around his groin and feels a little bit of air skirt across his bare legs. And he remembers.

Though it had been five or so months since he'd started to wear around Derek,  _around daddy,_ he's still having trouble truly letting go, especially in some positions. Easily can he have accidents when standing, because that's just natural, but some other positions... are still a little bit difficult. But with time, and much more relaxation and easy breathing, he's gotten much better. Much more easier.

It also helps that he needs to go, and, after a point, he finds he just can't  _stop._ And that's when he knows he's really there.

Even before his stream quits, the diaper swells and he's got that fantastic warm and cozy feeling. Safe. He smiles into Derek's shirt, knowing just a little bit that with his werewolf side, his daddy can certainly smell a tinge of it, maybe even hear a little bit. But he says nothing. Stiles, after several minutes, though, wants a change and starts to whine a little until Derek asks what he wants.

Doesn't feel like talking, though. He changes positions a little and nods his head towards his diaper. Derek says he has to say what wants, though.

"I, uh... I had an accident." He feels his face heat up and ducks his head, but Derek thanks him and just tells him to lie down on the floor,

_"I'll be right back to clean you up."_

Sometimes he wonders what Derek really gets out of this. Only sometimes, though, because most of the time he remembers how the former alpha had been lonely, how he'd finally admitted that to him during a quiet night together. How he'd been dwelling on what Isaac had said to him, and had finally realized what it'd all really been about.

He'd just wanted people to care about, to have the opportunity for what he'd lost in the fire. He didn't want to replace the family he'd lost, though, knew he never could, but he had...

_"I was... just... lonely."_

They'd both been lonely, really.

But now... now things weren't so lonely.

Not when he had someone who could quiet his heart like Derek.


End file.
